


Christmas for Just Me and You

by masked_simplicity



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Christmas, Christmas Dinner, Eye Injury, F/M, Flashbacks, One Shot, Pre-Overwatch Flashback, where Ana didn't immediately disappear after getting that eye injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 08:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15044414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masked_simplicity/pseuds/masked_simplicity
Summary: Being the only two left in Overwatch HQ for Christmas, Ana is invited over by Reinhardt for dinner.





	Christmas for Just Me and You

**Author's Note:**

> This short story is under the assumption that Ana was rescued after her eye was shot by Widowmaker. She eventually ran away from Overwatch, where they then believed she committed suicide.

It was around the time of noon when Ana heard a large pounding hard against her door. She wasn’t really up to anything then (calibrating her guns, counting her remaining ammunition and so forth) nor was she expecting any company — it was, after all, Christmas Eve, which meant tomorrow was a special day to celebrate with loved ones and most importantly, family. Most of the usual occupants of the Overwatch headquarters, even Winston himself, had already packed up and left for home, or their friend’s houses.

Ana wanted to return home too, for she herself had a beautiful daughter she cherished, but Fareeha, with a heavy heart, said something important came up in her duties. Crucial ones, she assumed, but Ana understood. If it were to the extent that Fareeha had to skip out on a holiday event, she knew something important was at stake. Thus, Ana had told Winston that she would manage Headquarters while he was gone. It was a lot to look out for, she knew, but if it could take her mind of that wandering loneliness in her heart, Ana figured it was worth it.

So there she was in her quarters, restocking her ammunition with biotics and packing them into her bags for whatever fight that was soon to come. With Talon activity growing higher and higher by the minute, she knew she couldn’t stand to stay still anymore. Not especially after she discovered _who_ the Reaper was.

Her hands paused in her movements. She wouldn’t rest until he did too. She wouldn’t let him suffer any longer.

She was just about done with filling up her third bag with supplies when she heard a loud thumping on the door. It wasn’t a light and polite tap, much like most of the others would do, but rather like a hammer knocking hard against a nail. The sudden change from the initial silence was nearly enough to make her jump. Her head shot up to face the direction of the door, “Yes? Who is it?”

A powerful laugh came, “Open up and find out.” 

She froze for just a moment, before she slowly began to smile. By the end of his words, she was already heading for the door.

“Ana!” Reinhardt bellowed gleefully as soon as she opened the door. Near falling to the ground from leaning on it, Ana was quick to catch him; stabilising his position as he let out a full-hearted laugh. “Winston told me you'd still be here, so I came looking for you in your quarters. Speaking of which, where is my favourite gorilla?”

Ana let out a groan as she shoved the bulk of a man back on his two feet. “And here you have found me.” A dull ache crept slowly up her back, more irritating than painful. She stretched; finding it funny that decades back, she would have laughed if anyone had told her the burden of which was old age. How she was young back then and foolish. “Winston decided to take a holiday break and left the Overwatch headquarters in my stead. I have decided to take his place so he can enjoy Christmas with the new recruits.”

She let out a soft chuckle thinking about it. She remembered the look on Winston’s face as the young ones hauled and laughed for him to come along — how confused, flabbergasted, but _happy_ he was. It reminded her too much of how Fareeha first travelled with her to visit the Overwatch Headquarters, where she watched the snow drift slowly to the ground with wonder and excitement. It reminded her on how Fareeha used to tug on her arm and excitedly insisted for them to play together.

It all seemed so long ago.

“But what are _you_ doing here?” she inquired as soon as she refocused back onto the man staring around her quarters curiously. His fingers brushed against the beautiful vase Ana just bought two days ago from her Christmas shopping. It tipped over the desk and fell with a loud crash, and the clumsy oaf looked over to her with a pained wince as he watched it turn to shards of glass. She inhaled sharply. “Weren’t you supposed to be over at Torbjörn’s for Christmas?”

Reinhardt seemed to be at a lost between deciding whether to cleanup or whether to answer her question, so Ana brushed him aside, grabbing a broom as she started to work on the mess. He looked on in guilt. “Torbjörn has more than enough company to keep himself warm for the holiday season,” he reasoned. “He has his wife, and all his wonderful children. But you—”

He stopped in his words, hesitant to continue but Ana smiled. She knew what he was trying to say.

“It's alright, Reinhardt. It's not the first time Fareeha had to leave for the sake of her duties. I’ll be fine.”

She was barely done with her sentence when she heard his voice called out again, “But don't worry, Ana!” he reassured, excited as the happy chipper returned to him once again. “I have prepared for you the right surprise worthy of turning that frown upside down.” 

Ana blinked. “What?”

But before she could even properly register the words he said, Reinhardt reached out for her hand, tugging on her to follow. “Reinhardt, wait, ” she stuttered, “Where are we going?" 

He didn't answer her, that grin glued to his face as he lead her through the hallway, his hand holding onto hers tight. Ana could've said this was a rather surprising turn of events but really, with Reinhardt, she had learned to expect the unexpected. It was one of the reasons why she enjoyed her times around him.

“Hang on,” Reinhardt said after a while, turning back to look at her. She cocked her head quizzically, freely displaying her confusion before spoke again, “Close your eyes.”

_“What?”_

“Just close them,” he insisted, giving her a slight pout when she folded her arms in mock suspicion, amused. “You'll spoil the surprise.”

Letting out a chuckle, Ana obeyed, closing her eyes as he had asked and watched as the darkness consumed her. She reached out, intending to use her hands to avoid bumping into any obstacles, before she felt something warm brush against her, hesitant, timid, but eventually encompassing around her. It surprised her at first, but she was quick to relax.

After all, she knew who it was. And she trusted him all her life.

“Lead the way then.”

“Of course,” She didn't have to look to know he was smiling. “Captain.”

The walk was quiet throughout; the hallways of Overwatch echoing with their footsteps as they made their way through — where only once or twice did Ana hear Reinhardt's voice greeting one of the few others that stayed behind. The silence was unlike the Reinhardt she normally knew, but it was calming nevertheless. Once in a while, he'd let out a soft hum, following the tune of the songs he loved. Though silence was normally tied with awkward situations, this was nothing like that. Rather quite the opposite, Ana had never felt so relaxed in her life.

“Now, open them.”

And she did. Surprised, she couldn't believe what she saw.

The view was dark, but it was a dinner table, one of those which she recognised from the old storage rooms; laying rested underneath all those thick layers of dust ever since Overwatch was brought to rest, covered by a layer of gorgeous red silk; and on each opposing side a chair to sit. Atop the table, adorning it with an attractive view, rested a beautiful candelabrum — the flames swaying curiously, which kept the room warm in that winter night. Plates and rather vintage-looking silverware were neat and arranged, and had Ana not known this was all Reinhardt’s idea, she would've thought he was incapable of pulling off so romantic a gesture.

She let out a chuckle. “Reinhardt, what is this all about?”

He let out a booming laugh. “Why, a dinner, of course!” he exclaimed. “There is nothing more joyous than celebrating the holiday season with good food and a beauty such as yourself, after all.” He scuttled over to the chair closest to her, pulled it back by the top rail and gave her a bow. “Milady?”

She snickered, deciding to play along and had herself sit. “You shouldn’t have.”

As soon as she had settled down, readied herself for whatever surprises he had in store for her, she looked over to him and smiled. “Well, Reinhardt, I'd love to see more of these surprises you have in store. The layout you've set up here is rather becoming as well.”

Reinhardt seemed proud as he started rifling around for something, “An amazing set-up, yes? I had Lena and Jesse assist me with the decorations before they left with Winston for Christmas. See the silverware?” Though he wasn't looking at her, Ana couldn't help but nod out of instinct. “They both volunteered to give a hand in buying them while they went Christmas shopping, since I was away for the past few days.”

Ana peered down into her plate. It was so clear she could see her reflection staring back.

“Aren't they beautiful?” he exclaimed. “I drew so much inspiration from last time, so I really wanted it to look similar.” But Reinhardt paused in his words, and Ana heard him breath in sharply. “...Oh.”

Her fingers twitched anxiously. _Last time._ Before she faked her death. Before everything went to hell. Before, when everything was happy and there were none of these needless betrayals.

He let out a cough, which pulled Ana back to the present. “Anyway,” he continued, but he couldn't hide that nervousness in his voice. “I'll have you know that I've got lots prepared for dinner. You know of my glorious dishes, Ana — and I hope you have missed them after all this time because I have prepared you my best; one-hundred percent German!”

Ana smiled. “I hope it's that turkey you love making for Thanksgiving.”

Acting like he being stabbed through the heart, Reinhardt winced. “Bah, you've ruined my surprise,” he playfully wailed. “But so sensitive a nose you have, Ana — for yes, it is indeed turkey I have readied just for you. Served large enough for you to—”

Reinhardt was just about to complete his sentence when Ana noticed the room growing a slight bit darker than it was a second ago. She looked over at the candelabrum, and noticed that one of the fires had gone out. Reinhardt, noticing it as well, muttered a few words in German, before holding out his hand for her to relax. “Don't worry, I'll just light it back up.”

Ana obeyed, sinking back down to her seat. Quickly, Reinhardt reached out to grab a box of matches that rested on the dinner table. He positioned it against the rough surface at the side, and quick as he could he struck the match. Strangely enough, however, no fire came. He tried again — once, twice, three times; but still, there was no fire.

“Reinhardt, I think that—” But the words never reached him. Instead, he persisted in his actions, looking near desperate to light that candle up again. She reached out to him this time, _“Reinhardt.”_

He snapped out of it. “Huh? I—I mean,” he scratched the back of his head. “I'm afraid I don't have a lighter…”

Now it was Ana's turn to have him sit. “Don't worry, I got it handled.” She lifted one of the other candles perched atop the candelabrum, allowing the fire to spread from the tip of its wick to the extinguished one. The light returned just as fast as it disappeared, and satisfied, she set the candle back to its original place.

She looked back to Reinhardt, expecting a look of relief, and calmness to return. What she saw, on the other hand, began to sicken her with worry.

He seemed more distressed. Like he had done something terribly wrong.

“Reinhardt—”

But he was quick to cut her words, “That's right, I forgot to turn on some music!” He let out a nervous chuckle, and immediately his eyes began to flicker around in search of something. “Where did I place that radio…” she heard him mumble.

“Reinhardt…”

“Gah, I must've left it when I went to look for the new cable.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. “But… But you must be thirsty for some wine.” He reached out for a wine glass positioned next to her, grabbing the wine bottle as well and tried to open it up.

She barely had the time to call out his name when she saw the glass slip from his hands.

It felt to the ground with a loud crash, and Ana could only watch in shock as the liquid soaked the carpeting.

They were quiet for a long time, the silence deafening. When she couldn't take it anymore, she forced herself to speak, “Reinhardt…?" 

Then, alas, Reinhardt sighed, and slowly Ana began to watch as his expression began to falter — to the Reinhardt that hid underneath that bright smile; that goofy persona — to one that was more different. His grin disappeared, his eyebrows beginning to scrunch up, and all at once his figure to shrink. Secluded, miserable.

And that, she knew, was the person she loved.

 _This_ was the primary reason she loved him.

“I'm sorry, Ana,” he said, casting his gaze downwards and away from her own; as if ashamed. “I was just… just trying my best to rebuild what we had all those years ago. When you came back earlier this year, I felt a— an” — he paused in his words, his head struggling to think of a word suitable enough to describe what he intended — “ _energy_ passing through me, and I knew I was very happy to see you again.”

“And I was very happy too, Reinhardt.” She reassured him. She really did, and she was more than willing to defend her claim again and again if she had to.

“But after all _that_ had happened…” his voice began to falter, “after Overwatch came to fall, I watched that sad look on your face. You had lost your beautiful smile, and so keen I was to bring it back, yet I—”

“Reinhardt.”

“—have not succeeded once in this foolish attempt. Not even something as simple as setting up a table and preparing dinner so you could enjoy the festive seasons—”

“Reinhardt.”

“—or perhaps something even the slightest bit helpful—”

_“Reinhardt.”_

His mouth clamped up immediately, head drooped low, like he had run out of line with his words. He kept his expression away, his eyes fixated at nothing in particular.

“I don't want to fail you, like I did all those years ago.”

 _All those years ago_.

She remembered. And how she regretted back all those years ago.

But she didn’t know he did too.

* * *

_It was raining heavily that evening at the hospital. Her ward was cold, freezing, and she hated how every part of it reminded her just how different everything was compared to home. She hated how everything reeked of disinfectant, medicine, and the residue of dried blood clotting on her bandages. The supposed feeling of safety, of_ comfort, _had drowned the instant she couldn’t let that out of her head. If anything, it was a bigger form of torture compared to the bullet through her eye._

 _As she laid on those sheets, warm from her feverish body and drenched with sweat, she could do nothing more than stare into the light from above her; but it was a mistake. She looked long and hard, and that was when she realized how_ different _it all felt — how limited her vision was; how narrow her sight had become; and how_ infuriated _she felt about it._

 _She felt like screaming. Like tearing apart her mind, and she didn’t even know why. She was_ alive, _she was still living, but it felt like it was the last thing she wanted. All she could do was lie there, the frustration pent within decimating what little hope she had before, yet it wouldn’t come out. It wouldn’t release her from its clutches._

_It took her not long after to realize she was crying._

_Not being able to even so much as turn to her side and hide her face, she broke into sobs and let the tears fall._

_“Ana…?”_

_Her breath hitched in her throat as she quickly looked to her left, panic arose at the fear of someone seeing her in so devastated a state: the likes of which Ana Amari had promised never to be found in. She was the role model; the mediator that held Overwatch together. No one could see her this way._

_The person waiting by her side was someone she hadn’t seen for a very long time. She remembered how long he had been on her mind throughout her mission; how she thought of him every time she waited at the sidelines for the next battle; and how much she missed him. Throughout the entire mission she had watched as the team fell apart, broken from failure and fear, and again and again she only thought of how easily Reinhardt could return the best in them._

_But Reinhardt wasn't there, nor was the rest of Overwatch. None of them were there when Talon caught them off guard that blazing afternoon. None of them were there when their guns started to fire, erupting the environment into a state of panic. None of them were there as she watched her comrades die one by one._

_None of them were them when she felt that bullet pierce through her eye, nor were they there to tell her she wouldn't die. That she would be alright._

_“Get out."_

_“Ana, I—”_

_Her voice was wheezing as she screamed._ “Get out!”

 _And Reinhardt was frightened at that point. Desperate to stay. “Please, I just want to help you. I know what it feels to lose a friend. I do._ ” 

_“I don't need your help. You are_ never _there when you're needed, so why not do that right now?”_

_He said not a single word after. Neither of them spoke, so Ana could only hear the door close as he escorted himself out. The last thing she remembered had only been those eyes of his staring as he forced himself to move._

_That was the first time she saw him cry._

* * *

 “I lost Balderich back all those years in Eichenwalde, and it was all because this fool of a man couldn't be bothered to obey commands. Because he thought he had the strength to .”

Ana felt her fists tighten. When she woke up from the hospital, she had long forgotten the news about what had happened to the crusaders  during their battle at Eichenwalde. She had forgotten how Balderich had sacrificed himself to defend his home from the Omnic invasion, and how Reinhardt's negligence had contributed to it.

But worst of all, she had forgotten how much of an effect it had on him after.

How silly of her to think that after all this time, he may have forgotten what she said in the hospital.

“I knew I had failed you when you told me to leave.” His voice was shaking this time, his grip tensed as he slammed it against the table. The silverware rattled in the eerie silence that followed, and through the rattling all she could hear were his sniffles. He wouldn’t look at her. “After all those years, I knew I still did. I tried to fix it. I promise I did, but look at where it got me now.”

He looked at the mess, eyes riddled with anguish. “I’m still a failure.”

It took her a long time before she could think of something to say, but even as she forced the words out, they were caught in her throat — unhelpfully trapped within as she watched him with guilt. What a fool she had been all those years ago to ever think Reinhardt would never do anything that was for her sake. That by now _,_ Reinhardt had surrendered already — leave her to die with the rest of crowd, because that was what she deserved for thinking of him in such a way.

“Reinhardt,” she started. She reached out to cup his face, bringing his gaze to hers. A surge of pain ran through him as he stared deep into her eyes, long and hard but just as fast as it came, he brushed her off. Again, he looked away. “I'm sorry I said such words to you. I'm sorry you had to hear them, for looking back now I know you were just trying to help. You were only concerned about me.”

“I've let you down, Ana.”

“You have never let me down, nor will you ever,” she said, her voice firm and confident, for she knew it was the truth. “Reinhardt, if there were anyone I’d trust my life with, it would be you whom I choose.” 

“But you have Jack.”

“No. Only you.”

Again, the silence.

“You will not let me down.” She repeated again, for the last time that night.

“But how do you know you can trust me?” He looked at her, his words raw and bleeding. “How do you know I won't bring everyone down this time?”

“Because _I_ believe in you.”

And believe Ana did, for never once had she ever seen the man she knew as Reinhardt give up the fight. He would never step down, as long as someone, _somewhere_ still needed their help.

She had made her bitter mistake before.

It took a long time, the both of them withheld by silence before alas, he surged forward, desperate for her embrace.

Their kiss was gentle, innocent and short, but promising — not a promise to restore Gabriel back to what he was; not a promise to undo the mistakes Jack made that he was trying so hard to fix at that moment; nor the promise they wanted the most: to restore everything back to the way it was, where Overwatch was in its brightest of days. Though they would always speak of the hope they had about Overwatch returning back to the times everyone loved and remembered, they knew that hope had faded away long ago, and all those remaining were nothing more than meaningless words — and the hidden acceptance that heavied their hearts when they realized that would never be a reality anymore.

So instead, this was a different promise. Rather than a promise for something unattainable, this was a vow that swore they would, instead, value what little they had left; their memories, remaining faith, their trust in one another but most of all, a promise that they would never shatter it apart — especially between the two of them.

That she would love him despite what was left, and he the same. 

They gazed into one another’s eyes, panting as their lips parted. She felt his arms wrap feebly against her lithe form, gentle and passionate despite how rough he was in the battlefield. She leaned in close to that warmth, silent as they cared for one another in that cold winter's night.

“Merry Christmas, Reinhardt.”

She allowed their foreheads to rest again one another’s.

That was when he finally smiled.

“Merry Christmas… _mein lieben_.”

They stayed like that for a long time, engulfing one another in their embrace before Ana finally spoke again.

“So you said there was turkey?”

He let out that happy laugh of his again.

“More than enough for the both of us.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was a Christmas gift for a friend but I'm just gonna post it here anyway! ^^ Merry extremely early Christmas! SORRY FOR BEING SIX MONTHS EARLY ASDFGHJKL.


End file.
